


Tongues and Tales

by mazily



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mazily/pseuds/mazily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac needs more whiskey. Phryne needs Jack to pay closer attention to his Shakespeare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tongues and Tales

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Texts From Last Night. "He said he loves me but he hasn’t eaten me out yet. So I don’t think he means it." Title is a Shakespeare joke.
> 
> Beta-type action by Luna.

Phryne crawled across the chaise and lay down with her head in Mac's lap. Mac ran her fingers through Phryne's hair almost without thought. She stopped. Patted Phryne's head and reached for the whiskey bottle on the floor near her foot. 

Phryne sighed. "Mac," she said.

"Phryne," Mac echoed. 

The bottle looked empty, but Mac shook it over her glass anyway. A couple of drops splattered against her fingers. She licked them clean, tasting salt and the condensation from the outside of her glass, mixed with only the slightest touch of whiskey. Phryne curled onto her side. Face pressed against Mac's stomach. 

"He insists he loves me, you know," Phryne said.

"I should hope so," Mac said. She leaned over carefully to place the bottle and glass down on the floor. Hands freed, she started playing with Phryne's hair again. Alternated pressing lines along her scalp and twisting strands of hair around her fingers.

"I've tried being subtle about it," Phryne said. Mac was not at all sure she was drunk enough for any conversation involving Detective Inspector Robinson and sex. Stories about Phryne's latest tryst with some actor Mac would never meet were one thing; Mac would likely see Robinson at the morgue first thing Monday morning. "But it's as if he has no idea--and he's raided at least one brothel that we know of, he's read _Lady Chatterley's Lover_ , he recites _Shakespeare_ , so that can't be the case. And yet every time I so much as subtly push him down toward my cunt, he--"

Mac yanked on a strand of Phryne's hair. "Is there more whiskey somewhere?" 

"Stop it," Phryne said. She batted at Mac's arm. "I'm serious, Mac. Jack can barely stop telling me he loves me. And the sex is--"

"Phryne, I do not--"

"--otherwise wonderful. I haven't even thought about taking another lover, and we've been together almost an entire month now. I'm scandalously happy. He's actually surprisingly adventurous--in his office one night after I solved a murder, he--"

"Phryne," Mac said. She forced herself to stop clenching her teeth. "Stop."

Phryne rolled onto her back. "I firmly believe that if a man truly loves a women," she said, "he ought to at least offer to go downtown. I know there are some women who claim to not enjoy it--though I'm personally of the opinion that whoever tried it on them didn't know his tongue from his teeth--but Jack can't imagine I'm one of them."

"No," Mac said. 

"Mac," Phryne said.

"Have you actually told him this is something you want?" Mac asked. 

"I told you," Phryne said. Mac tapped her finger against Phryne's mouth, and Phryne stopped talking. Shock, Mac assumed, more than anything. Mac pressed her finger down and held it there. Phryne's entire body tensed for a moment. Relaxed. 

"He may be smarter than the average, but he's still just a man," Mac said. She brushed Phryne's fringe away from her face with her empty hand. "And reading Lawrence, I've found, doesn't adequately prepare a person for the mechanics of the act. It's all rather vague, isn't it? It's entirely possible for a man to know a thing exists but not have the first idea how to actually go about it."

Phryne nodded. Mac lifted her finger. Leaned forward and kissed Phryne's forehead. Phryne smiled. Sudden: dangerous and sharp. "Oh, that is brilliant," she said. She sat up, kissed Mac with an outrageous smack. "You're a genius, Mac. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before--I can only blame my relative discomfort at finding myself in a rather conventional relationship and all the trappings thereof--but when has Phryne Fisher ever shied from telling a man exactly how she wants him to pleasure her?"

"It's been at least since 1912," Mac said. 

"Exactly!" Phryne proclaimed. 

"So you'll tell him?" Mac asked. She rebuttoned her waistcoat. Straightened her cravat. Her hair was probably a lost cause for the night, but she poked at the pins holding it in place. 

"Yes," Phryne said. She pursed her lips. Her skin was slightly flushed. "Of course, if that doesn't work, he has offered to let me borrow his handcuffs, so I can always just cuff him to the bed and--"

Mac stood. Enough. "Good night, Phryne," she said. As definitively as possible.

"Mac," Phryne said. She brushed her skirt as she stood. Smoothing out the wrinkles.

"You know I love you," Mac said. "And I would do anything for you. But as there is every chance I'll need to look Inspector Robinson in the eye within the next week, I beg you to please. Stop. Talking."

Phryne placed her hand in the crook of Mac's elbow as they made their way to the door. "You could always tell me about your love life," she said. "Anything new with that young nurse I saw you speaking with last week? She was very attractive."

"I'll be sure to let her fiance know you think so," Mac said. 

"Her loss," Phryne said. She passed Mac her hat and held up her coat; Mac turned and placed her arms into the sleeves. Brushed her lapels down. "Miss Charlesworth just hired a new photographer at Women's Choice. I'd lay odds on her being"--She trailed off. Waved her arm in Mac's direction.--"your way inclined. Perhaps I'll host a small soiree and invite both of you."

"Good night, Phyrne," Mac said. 

"Good night," Phryne said. Mac gave her a quick hug, and Phryne kissed Mac's cheek. Wiped it clean with her thumb. Mac stepped out into the early morning chill. It was raining lightly, and she wrapped her coat more tightly around herself. Inhaled deeply and ran for her car.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback's lovely, kudos rock, dance dance. Feel free to [reblog](http://ylizam.tumblr.com/post/124203720828/tongues-and-tales-mazily-miss-fishers-murder) if that's your thing.


End file.
